


Pernicious Bliss

by WanderingSummerBreeze



Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 21:12:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10670856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingSummerBreeze/pseuds/WanderingSummerBreeze
Summary: Tumblr fic prompt. While I know she wanted something sexier, the story she gave me could not have been anything that what it became.Set during Jamie's time in the cave.





	Pernicious Bliss

I gripped the shift, thin and worn, like it was still draped along yer body...

With a thunderous howl, the wooden door was wrenched open, Jenny appearing on the other side. I could see her brush the soot off her skirts, but I dinna look up. I could feel m’heart beating something fierce; racing round like Jenny’s wee bairns after the chickens.

I felt the dress ripped from my grasp, and a tear sprung from its edge. I stood quickly, ducking out from under the cubby, but looked down upon my sister with an anger I could feel surgin’ inside of me.

“Give it back.”

She stood back, holding the shift up high, tight in her hand. “She’s gone, Jamie. Ye said so yerself. Why must you keep bringing her back?”

“Janet Murray,” I could hear my words, steady and firm, “Ye give me back my wife’s clothes, or I swear- “

“Swear what?” Jenny stood before me, her eyes blazing, “Ye canna do a thing to me, James Fraser. I come to tell ya the red-coats have gone, so ye can ferret back up to yer hole in the hills, and I find ye frozen in place, wi’ your face in her shift. She’s gone.”

I pulled the shift from her fingers, holding onto it for dear life. I wouldna let go of this, the way I had with her hand that night, so long ago.

“Aye. She’s gone,” I agreed. “I’m reminded of it every day. Claire was,” I stood straight as an arrow, my voice lowering, “Claire _is_ my wife.” I was quiet, our anger equal in fierceness, but on opposite sides. “And what do you mean by hidin’ this from me all this time?” I waved the shift in my fist, before bringing it to my nose and closing my eyes. Her memory always pricked my skin like a thistle, but I felt alive in that pain; her face reflecting back in my blood.

I grabbed the bag Jenny and Ian had filled wi’ food and trinkets to keep me entertained, and stealin’ a quick glance outside to make sure the soldiers had disappeared as quickly as they had come, fled back to the home I had lived in for nearly six years.

Wi’ the red-coats so close tonight, I couldna make a fire. But as I sat in my cave, the chill of the wall against my back, I ken I wouldna be cold tonight. I breathed in her scent, faint, but still there, “Ah, mo nighean donn, you’ll keep me warm, will ya not, Sassenach? Ye always could.”

_“Jamie, everyone’s awake,” she hissed, pushing my hand away from her breast._

_“Aye, everyone is,” nudging my morning wakefulness against her round behind. She laughed a laughed that warmed my soul each time it floated passed my ears._

_She tried to pull away from me, giggling “Your feet are cold.”_

_“Hmm…I ken you’ll warm em up.”_

_She turned over in my arms, her breath hot against my lips. I kept trying to catch them, but she’d keep on pulling away, giggling, before coming close again._

_“Sassenach,” I growled, before showin’ her I could take what I wanted. I gripped her body, pullin’ her into me. She ran her fingers along my side, just in the wee spot she ken would always get me. I laughed, lettin’ her break free, until she rolled on top, pinning my arms above my head._

_“I win.”_

_“Did ya now?” I quirked my brow nudging my cockstand against her bottom._

_She laughed, her body falling atop mine, pressing her breasts against my skin, my arms free to wrap round her body. I buried myself in her hair, inhaling, and she whispered in my ear, scratching her face across my beard,_ _“What is it you want, Jamie?”_

I fell against my blankets, her shift, heady wi’ her scent, even after all this time, whirling around my brain.

I closed my eyes, taking hold of myself through my breeks. It had been so long, I dinna want to disgrace her wi’ what I was doin’. But I couldna stop myself.

“Could ya maybe, Claire?”

I could hear her answer, it came through the cave softly, and wrapped around my body, keeping me safe and warm, as she took my cock in her hand.

Each night she’d come. I’d watch her face lookin’ upon me from the walls; her smile caught in the steady flow of water, dancing along the stones, hiding in between the cracks, before bursting through the other side with fire and light.  I would feel her hand upon my cheek, her breath upon my lips.  She was soft, those nights. Her skin chilly and smooth. Pernicious bliss, I thought with a smile. She was lovely in the dark. Almost hidden, my thoughts only allowing for fragments of her to come through.

“You know I’m not really here, Jamie,” she would say.

I would just hold on tighter to her shift, curling myself into her body.

The nights a fire was lit, though, she was fierce. Her anger, punching me in the chest, ferocious and strong, leaving marks, wounding my flesh. Or was tha’ me? She was strong and passionate, then. Would push me to the wall, grabbing and fighting, thrashing about. She rode me hard, those nights. Taking her own pleasure wi’ every part of my body; her hair wild, falling across her shoulders. She was strong in the fire.

Some nights, she’d walk away from me. I would see the shape of her through her shift, the dampness causin’ it to cling to her hills and valleys, just so. Her nipples pointing hard through the thin cloth. As the ember flame perished, I’d shiver. I’d call her back, my legs not moving to run for her. She’d duck, curling herself around the edge of the cave so that all I’d see were her fingers clinging to the stone. I’d call out to her, my throat hoarse from the smoke and chest tight wi’ fear.

“Claire!”

I’d wake with my hands bloodied from the ground, the dirt itching under my nails. I’d look to the entrance, the light barely shining through, and she wouldna be there. She wouldna be there until I breathed her in, calling her forth, again. Then, she’d come.

My heart would warm, beating faster beneath my chest.

“Oh, mo chridhe. You are a sight.”

I’d watch her dance in the cave, the dark, damp walls turning to the blue paper of the Laird’s room. Our room. She’d sing songs to me, from her time. Songs that would make me laugh, and she’d laugh along wi’ me. She’d take my hand, pull me up beside her.

“Dance with me, Jamie.”

“Ye know I canna dance, Sassenach,” I’d say.

“I can’t sing, has that stopped me?”

I would laugh, hearty and healthy, “Nah. And I would never wish ye to.”

And we would dance, her voice echoing around the cave, bringing it to life. All the creatures hidden in the dark would slink out, coming to clap and stomp their feet as we did.

We’d fall into the piles of blankets and I would kiss her deeply, lifting her shift up, and I would push inside her. My name would fall from her lips, and the creatures around us, would leave us in peace.

Some nights I was quick. Some nights I would take my own pleasure inside her body, forgetting her. Other nights, I would love her in every way imaginable. I would kiss every part of her, leaving a trail of heated flesh that would bubble up in the cool night air. I would nurse from her breasts, let her nourish me, before moving on. I’d play around her tummy, my tongue tickling her by her sides, and she’d push me away in fun, but she’d always pull me back. Back into her.

I would taste in her most private of places, her honey pooling on my tongue as her legs would tighten around my head. And when she called to me, when she would beg to be taken, only then, would I enter her, swiftly and to the hilt. And I would be home. We would be home.

I turned my head, my fingers drawing across the scars on my back. The scars she left from the night before. I set her aside, dropping the shift to the blankets, and I would brush away the dried blood, only nothing fell away; so, I’d feel again, but the marks under my fingers were old. Nothing remained but scars from so long ago.

I would break. I would fall to my knees, cursing you. Cursing God! I promised I would gladly walk through two hundred years of purgatory for ye Claire. But did ye have to punish me yerself, while I did?

I settled myself in, one hand tucking under my breeks as the other held yer shift to my face, once more. I closed my eyes and ye came to me with yer hand open, taking hold of mine, beneath the breeks. I could smell yer hair all round me.

 _I buried myself in her hair, inhaling, and she whispered in my ear, scratching her face across my beard,_ _“What is it you want, Jamie?”_

"You." I dropped the shift, wet from my tears, from my hand, letting it fall into the fire. 

 

 


End file.
